


Soft

by GalekhXigisi



Series: Menstrual fics [5]
Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Child Abuse, Dysphoria, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gender Dysphoria, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Im not educated on It, M/M, Menstruation, Multi, Trans Male Character, Trans Male Richie Tozier, Trans Richie Tozier, Transphobia, no beta we die like men, semi canon compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-09
Updated: 2019-09-09
Packaged: 2020-10-13 06:49:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20578250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GalekhXigisi/pseuds/GalekhXigisi
Summary: I'm tired and It currently has my attention. I have yet to see It Chapter 2 but I want to so bad.Please leave feedback!Please join my Discord server!https://discord.gg/eGkwayy





	Soft

There are fleeting moments like this one that occur far more commonly than anyone wanted to admit. Or, at least, the Losers Club didn’t want to admit it. The adults in their lives certainly had another say on that, pointing it out against and again so much that all of Derry know about the teenagers and their entire lives. It was bullshit, but the town was small so there wasn’t a damn thing they could actually do about it, really. 

Richie usually spent every moment with his little group of friends. He usually loved their presence and thrived off of them, even if he was a dickhead and they were dickheads right back. They were teenagers and that was just that on that. It was their jobs to make each others’ lives a living hell without  _ actually _ fucking them over. That was just what teenagers did to everyone within their path, even if they did genuinely make it Hell sometimes. 

But, right now, Richie doesn’t really want much more than one person at a time, and even then, it could become overwhelming within seconds. It only took a few sounds, a few touches, a few sensations, a few  _ anything _ and he would have to send them away, curled up in a ball as he avoided the ache deep in his gut and the bloated his of his stomach that seemed way too big on him and made him feel like his aunt, who was due in a couple of months now, which meant there would still be a couple more cycles of this before that little fucker would finally pop. Richie knew he wouldn’t be seeing the baby for a while, but he didn’t want to comment that. No, the last time he had, he’d gotten backhanded by his mother and he really didn’t want that again, not when the red still marked up his cheek. 

It wasn’t safe at really anyone's house. The only possibilities were Bens’ or Beverlys’ homes. There was Ben, whose two mothers had fallen in love after Bens’ birth father had cheated on him with the woman that now sat as his other mother, married to the woman that was so kind to her son. And then there was Bev’s aunt, who was kind and always knew what to say. If Richie were ever honest with himself, he would admit that he spent a million more days with his friends’ in their homes than he ever had his own. Sure, Bev’s aunt didn’t exactly understand, but she was patient and always used the right name and pronouns. And Bens’ moms always patched him up when he came to their home with black eyes and aching tears. 

Despite their kindness, Richie never wanted to admit that he spent more days at their homes than his own, really. Only one of those seven days a week was ever spent with the boy in his own home. He wanted to justify their actions. He wanted to tell the adults  _ they’re not bad people, they’re just putting me in my place! _ But he knows otherwise. He knows that that isn’t right. He knows it isn’t true. He knows that it’s lies. He knows that it’s abuse and that his parents shouldn’t beat him because he’s grown out of his bra or because he “suddenly” can’t stomach being called his birth name. The entire school already called him a fairy anyway. He might as well go for the entire come out. At least they called him Richie instead of his birth name, though that had been his aunts’ work one of the two times she had seen him and he was seven and admitted that Richie fit better than anything else. His dad had pissed her off and she had  _ somehow _ gotten his name changed within three days, records of a little girl in the Tozier household lost beneath times’ folds. 

Now, he sits in Bevs’ home, curled up on the girls’ bed as the radio softly plays in the background. The lights are flipped off and Eddie lets Richie rest his head on his lap, flitting his fingers through the untamed curls. Bev and her aunt weren’t home. They were gone out of Derry for an  _ official _ court case against Bevs’ father, the girls’ aunt -  _ Aunty Em, _ as they all called her, or just  _ Em _ in Richie’s case - finally taking full custody of her niece. He was proud of them both for finally prying the girl from her sickly pervert of a fathers’ custody. They both deserved far better. 

Eddie slowly asks, “Are you alright, Rich?” 

The younger shrugs, frowning. He aches, the unsafe binding he always used for his chest discarded for an oversized shirt that Mike had given him at some point that he never really wanted to let go. The bandages were to be left alone for the next week and a half, which meant a lot more baggy clothes and tight bras that he could probably get from a three minute trip inside his home, not that he wanted to face his parents right now, a bag of frozen peas currently laid across his cheek, tears having died down long ago. 

A whole assortment of the Loser Clubs’ things sat around the room, just as well as Bens’ own room. Richie didn’t have a singular thing that wasn’t his own  _ \- or an occasional stolen top - _ in his room, not that he was actually there much. His parents would have a fucking  _ cow _ if he brought home someone else's things or, any deity  _ forbid, _ they find a shirt that didn’t look like his own in there. Thankfully for them, Rich wore almost exclusively bigger clothes and “faded” tones, not at all like his mother with her pastels and hot colors. Instead, he just stuck to things that were nice on his eyes. He always had. 

Eddie frowns at the shrug, even if it’s just barely seen through the dark room. Sure, a lot of Eddies’ medicine  _ was _ bullshit, but there were a few things that weren’t bullshit, such as Motrin, which Eddie offered with a half-drank cup of water the two boys had been sharing earlier that day. It had already been refilled three times, not that anyone would actually confess who had or had not drunk more. The only hint anyone had towards the topic was the half-soaked shirt Eddie had thrown over the chair in the other room that was covered in water and Richies’ spit after a joke that went too far between the two and had ultimately drained Rich of his energy in the end. 

“Thanks,” Richie mumbles softly as he lays back down, pulling the blanket over himself. His head was pounding and he felt sick, but that was just yet another thing that tended to happen when the rivers of red rolled around. He knew his teenage years would be absolute shit for this monthly mother fucker, but he was praying for the days he turned eighteen and could finally flee from his home. Then, he could start hormones and get his life together, picking up the shattered pieces Maggie and Wentworth left behind. He wouldn’t have to worry about waiting until he was twenty, sitting out those weeks where he laid in bed, incapacitated by the overwhelming aches and bullshit his unwanted uterus pulled on him. Shit, he just wanted a house with his best friend and to adopt a dog when they were older, was that too much to ask for? Eddie had already said he’d like a pomeranian, though that tiny menace better be ready to get potty trained because Richie was  _ not _ ready to take on that responsibility when he, himself, was already a hassle enough as was. 

Eddie just cards his fingers through the curls once again, silently listening to the radio announce songs to something that wouldn’t actually matter ten minutes from then. Sure, Richie felt like shit, but at least his friends seemed to be a common rock there to comfort him, even if they weren’t  _ physically _ there. 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm tired and It currently has my attention. I have yet to see It Chapter 2 but I want to so bad. 
> 
> Please leave feedback!
> 
> Please join my Discord server!  
https://discord.gg/eGkwayy


End file.
